I’m an avid skier who’s been adamant about sticking to one snow sport. But then a good friend gave me his snowboard and boots last year before moving to Hawaii.

The gear is collecting dust in my bedroom – a reminder every morning and night that I’m obligated to make use of it.

Snowboarding was all the rage when I started skiing at age 13, but I figured it was just a fad, like the stone-washed jeans of my elementary days.

Fifteen years later, the sport is just as popular, and I’ve decided to give it a go. I’ve simply run out of excuses.

My friend has been boarding for years, and he always swore I wouldn’t go back to skiing if I tried it.

“There’s nothing like finding your groove on fluffy powder,” he would say.

It sounded to me like a variation of surfer talk. Besides, I’d already found my Zen on skis, and there seemed to be less risk without both of my feet clamped to a single board.

There’s no safety device on snowboards that lets you fly free of the equipment during a spill. Once you’re in, that’s it until you release the clamps manually.

Catching an edge on skis means you tumble to the side, rolling along the hill and depositing equipment in what is known as a yard sale – embarrassing but non-fatal.

Doing this on a snowboard results in the fly-swatter effect, which involves lashing forward or backward at lightning speed and whapping your head on the ground.

I’m generally opposed to brain damage – it can’t possibly help with prose – so I decided to learn snowboarding in the most controlled environment possible.

I signed up for a lesson at Bellevue’s Mini Mountain Indoor Ski Center, which offers instruction on carpeted conveyor belts that help simulate the act of gliding down a bunny hill.

My lesson lasted 20 minutes, and it was relatively painless, aside from the burning it caused in my thigh muscles. Instructor Jim Mercer taught me to turn by digging in with the heel edge and toe edge of my board, which is done by shifting your upper body and the weight of your hips.

I fell only once during the lesson – something I’ll attribute to skiers balance. It was a slow motion dive, so I never whapped my head on the ground. The only thing that came away bruised was my ego.

The Mini Mountain ski center has three ramps that ride like good snow, only a touch slower. The surface is made of home-grade nap, which means it’s quality carpet.

“Expensive carpet skis better,” Mercer said.

Mini Mountain also has a chairlift that operates along one of its ramps.

The instructors told me it normally takes between six and 12 lessons before students are ready to go out on their own.

“It’s not magic, it’s practice,” Mercer said. “The more you do it, the better you’ll be at your skills so you can have a successful time.”

I can see from my first lesson that confidence is starting to take the place of my fear. It has me wanting more.

In hindsight, that’s what really held me back from snowboarding all this time. I was afraid that the sport would lure me away from my first love.

Skis, you have nothing to worry about. The snowboard is just a friend.